Creepy Stories

Dating Game

Despite the torment in her life, she never seemed depressed about it. Either she was incredibly optimistic about life or she was one of the best actors I had ever seen; either way, I was willing to take a shot. I asked her if she'd like my number. It turned out that she had some bad meetings at this particular convention herself, and wanted to take off to do something more fun. She tossed me an invite and, seeing as I was a lonely 32 year old man, she didn't have to ask twice.

I never understood what she saw in me over all the other guys. I was beaten and broken with no aspirations to better my current situation. Maybe she understood how I felt, considering all the pain she felt herself, and decided to get to know who I really was under this cocoon of emotionless insecurity. I sensed a thread of compassion intertwined between all that stress and trauma, willing to lend an ear to anyone that felt the same pain as her. I was truly transfixed by her presence, drawn to her character. I had never felt like this before.

We decided to go to a pool hall. Apparently she used to be a regular at another pool hall by her old house, winning local tournaments and making a name for herself, and she wanted to check out the scenery here. I wasn't too shabby at the table game myself, so I was excited. Every shot she made was perfect; the balls just sank into the pockets like each pocket was a black hole just waiting for something to trespass into its field. Out of the seventeen games we played, I think I made around 23 shots. She just kept running the table. It was funny, because she kept apologizing for being so good. I waived the apology and complimented her on her skill, causing her to giggle more. Every time she laughed, I fell harder and harder. And, to be honest, I was always excited when the cue ball landed on my side of the table. You know, 'cause she bent over to take her shots, as many pros do. Heh.

We left after that. She said she had to get home as she had some errands to run, being new in the neighborhood and all. I agreed, since I had a facebook application that I had to update (obviously I didn't give her that reason. Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me? Passing up an amazing girl for facebook? Egh...), so we exchanged numbers and parted ways. I couldn't believe it, I had actually scored a beautiful woman. Hell yeah.

Weeks and months passed on. We continued to talk and eventually began regularly dating. The relationship moved pretty quickly and it seemed we were truly matched for each other. After about seven months of dating, I asked her to marry me. I popped the question on the seventeenth, as that's how many games we played on our first date. She found that so romantic and flew into my arms, screaming yes to the skies. Things were finally looking up.

I moved out of my shitbox apartment and into her home. I always admired the cozy feel of her two bedroom ranch house. Something perfect to start a family in. As I was moving my final things in, I noticed how much of a mess I was making, with my boxes of stuff and all. I apologized and motioned to the basement to finish moving my things. Her face instantly darted to mine. In a hurried and almost frantic voice, she assured me that she'd take care of the rest of my things and that I should relax. It was a bit odd, sure, but she had been through so much excruciating sadness throughout her life that her having a psychiatric illness is something I expected. I complied to her request.

The next few months were great. We never got tired of each other, and, on our wedding day, the kiss we shared on that alter was so special that I firmly believe angels surrounded us and serenaded us with harps and trumpets as our lips connected and sparked so brightly that the entire room was illuminated. I'll leave out the details of the honeymoon as this is not a pornographic piece. She was always leery of me approaching the unforbiding basement, sometimes to the point of arguing with me about it, but, aside from that, I didn't see any fault in her.

Until everything I knew about life was shattered.

One day, she told me she was going to the grocery store. I noted that I wanted some ground beef in order to make hamburgers for dinner. She smiled at me with that cute, adorable smile I have grown to know and love and headed out. After climbing Burger King's corporate ladder, I had finally attained the position of regional financial manager for the entire state. I was working on some budget information, assessing the costs of all the franchises across the state. It was a long and arduous process, but I was getting just above six figures for it, so I wasn't complaining. After each report was fully completed and evaluated, I moved the files to a USB drive so I could upload them to a computer for a corporate meeting the next day. To my horror, with only three reports left to finish, the computer crashed. If I didn't finish these reports, I would surely lose my job.